Cape Capers
by Lioness Rising
Summary: So far, just one short story called the Cape Cleaners. Commedy involving the Phantom's cape and the trials endured to keep it clean.


**Disclaimer: **I do _not_ own Phantom of the Opera, or any of its characters. sob

**Cape Capers**

**The Cape Cleaners**

Lioness Rising

In the dark, dank tunnels underground, the epitome of human nightmares stalked. It was a terror unmentionable, the bogey man used to scare children into obedience. The mere sight of it left people screaming, if they managed not to faint in sheer terror. With a face so badly burned, there was only bone left, the eyes yellowed and sunken into the skull. The mere mention of its name sent maidens into a swoon. He was one with the shadows, and his passing alone would send shivers dancing down the spine.

This was the Phantom of the Opera.

At this moment, the Phantom was lurking in the tunnels behind the walls, waiting for a sign that the room he was about to enter was occupied. He was swaddled in black clothing from head to toe, his mask a pale glow in the darkness. He blended with the shadows, looking like a disembodied mask in the darkness. His ear pressed against the wall, he waited for any signs of occupancy, and when none reached his well trained ear, he slowly crept into the room. If there had been anyone in the room, they would have fainted from the shock of having him appear from seemingly nowhere. It looked as if the darkness itself had grown arms and legs and unattached itself from its fellow shadows. But one thing seemed to be missing. As the non-existent occupant of the room fell to the floor in an ungraceful heap of unconsciousness, they would notice something missing on this apprentice of Death. This one small detail would linger on the back of their minds as they awoke, and when this rhetorical occupant told others of their encounter with this scion of Night, one small, puzzling detail would be missing.

The Phantom had no Cape.

This small detail would be so outlandish and unthinkable that the others who heard the tale that the make-believe audience told, they would tell the occupant that it was only a dream, or call him delusional, suggest that he stay off the bush, call the nice people in the white coats, or some such measure. For, you see, the Cape to the Phantom is like the Fangs to Dracula, or the Skull to Death. It was simply ludicrous to consider one without the other. Without it he was not the Phantom, just some unfortunate cosplayer who could not afford a cape, or was otherwise to lazy.

Unfortunately though, it would be as the imagined occupant told.

Phantom had no cape.

You see, unlike the skull or the fangs, the cape needed to be removed to be cleaned. So, Phantom had sent the cape to the best he could find.

His cape was at the Cape Cleaners.

Unfortunately for Phantom, upon his return to the Lair, he discovered something.

He had forgotten to put mothballs in with his spare capes.

Now, the spares did not fit that well, and were slightly faded, but they were capes nonetheless. Or, at least the were. Now, they were moth eaten rags, to be kind. Nothing the Phantom would be seen in. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on who you are), this did not sit well with the Phantom. Five minutes after a girly scream rang out that had people looking for rapiers and smelling salts, three phangirls were discovered severely, but blissfully, traumatized. Nineteen other were still missing.

Poor Phantom.

So, three days later, here the Phantom was, slinking through his own Opera house to retrieve his cape from the Cape Cleaners. They, unfortunately, did not do home delivery.

Now, another reason why the make believe occupant would not be believed was that it was high noon. Everyone knew that the Phantom did not leave the lair at high noon. It would be considered an outrageous lie by some, and by others, a sign of the coming Apocalypse. It all depended on your level of paranoia.

The reason the Phantom was now moving by day was also due to his level of paranoia (or the lack of enforcement in the restraining orders) concerning rabid phangirls.

This was also the reason that the Phantom forgot to pick up his other capes. The obsessed and depraved (not in a good way) phangirls had memorized his schedule, and so he had to go carefully. Every time he ventured forth to clean a cape, he was chased, and in the near blind panic that the thought of being in the clutch of millions of morbidly obsessed phangirls, he would forget to pick up his other capes.

This was a truly distressing (and disturbing) scenario.

So, in the hopes of avoiding a (7th) repeat, the Phantom had come up with a plan. Lucky for him, he had extra masks given to him by phangirls (sometimes they're useful for something) with which to implement his plan. It was oh so simple, yet elegant in its simplicity.

Raoul would be dressed up as the Phantom.

Of course, it would be against his will, but what does a little thing like willingness to cooperate matter? Also, though he would not look nearly as upsetting as the real deal (the pansy), he would do in a pinch.

So here the Phantom waited to see if his distraction would reap a success.

Suddenly, a scream of decibels so high it high it shattered glass and ears alike broke the quiet of the room the Phantom was in. Then cries of "Phantom!" and "Erik!" broke the brief silence following the wail.

Phantom cackled evilly (and if you can cackle any other way than evil or insane, I would love to know).

His plan had worked! Raoul's own scream was the catalyst, for you see, only the Phantom could produce that exact pitch of fear in Raoul's voice, and the phangirls would notice. They would run towards any place where the Phantom may be found, and stake it out.

It was slightly disturbing.

So, after listening to make sure that the excited screams of fanatic phangirls was nowhere nearby, Phantom edged out of the room and started to make his way towards his goal. He was halfway there when he felt a shudder and a tremor run through the floor beneath his feet. Short snuffling noises could be heard around the corner, and the excited whispers of "Pizza!" reached Phantoms ears.

"Carlotta." Phantom whispered.

Shortly thereafter, Carlotta herself rounded the corner. Good thing Phantom was prepared. With a piece of pizza in hand, Carlotta did not even notice that it was the skeletal hand of the Phantom that held the coveted pizza.

After moving the pizza around in strange figure eight patterns to assure that Carlotta's attention was focused solely on the pizza, Phantom heaved the pizza down the hallway, and was then subsequently slammed against the wall as Carlotta took off after the airborne pizza, not caring who (or what) got in her way.

Poor puppy.

One obstacle overcome, many left to follow.

Now Phantom ventured forth much more cautiously than ever before. After all, Phantom had not expected to encountered Carlotta until after one in the afternoon, sometime on his return trip. Now he would have to create another diversion for Carlotta.

Goody.

So, Phantom slunk his way down hallways, oozed around corners, and generally sneaked everywhere else. Phantom made it to the entrance (or exit, depending on which way your going) without further mishap.

Now was the critical moment. Now was the time that would determine his success or failure. If, for some unfathomable reason, a phangirl (or mob of phangirls) waited outside for him, he would, in a word or two, be screwed.

So, with that thought in mind, Phantom cautiously peered around the edge of the doors into the big, bright, smog filled world beyond.

A slow look to the left, and a slower one to the right to the right confirmed the (temporary) absence of phangirls.

So far, so good.

As Phantom exited the Opera house, a shriek of delight was released from above. It seemed to contain the word "Phantom!" somewhere in it, but it was otherwise unintelligible. The owner of the name being trumpeted to the world flinched. When had they learned to hide above?

So, knowing that there was no time to waste, Phantom sprinted in the general direction of the esteemed Cape Cleaners. He dodged fainting pedestrians and poles, leaving unconscious persons and screams in his wake. So, he took to the alleys.

Soon, after many a dodging and hours of sprinting (opera lungs), he arrived at his destination.

Or not.

Now the Phantom was lost. Due to the fact that phangirls knew his usual paths to the Cape Cleaners, he had decided to take one they would not know.

Unfortunately, neither did he.

So, being lost, Phantom did what every other stereotypical male does.

He refused to ask for directions.

After a great deal of wandering, muttering, and punjabbing, Phantom found his way to the Cape Cleaners.

Unfortunately for him, his troubles were not yet over.

As the sound of millions of milling phangirls reached his sensitive ears, he cursed so artfully, and in so many different languages, that the air, did indeed, turn blue. Now, due to fanfiction standards, I cannot quote Phantom, because that would make this fic an R rated one, and would then be deleted.

And so, having turned as blue as the air, Phantom started to contemplate many a ways to surpass this problem.

After hours of bouncing ideas off the unresponsive walls surrounding him, and becoming increasingly frustrated, he hit upon an idea that had merits. After all, he had already used these diversions twice, and considering how the phangirls admired his creativity and intelligence (and rightly so), they would not expect him to do the same thing twice, thus the simplicity. He would create another Phantom of the Opera decoy. Only this time it would hold pizza, because everybody knows that the only thing phangirls love almost as much as the Phantom is food; therefore, a Phantom holding a pizza would be like Heaven. In fact, it would be a …

Phantom of the Pizzeria!

Ouch.

Grabbing a nearby homeless man and dragging him to a pizzeria, Phantom dipped him in tar (for the shadowy thing, y'know), stuck another spare mask on his face, and then, after having dragged the homeless-now-Phantom-man to a rooftop above the phangirls, pushed him down upon the phangirls, and yelled

"It's the Phantom! And he has Pizza!"

Which, of course, garnered the attention planned for and then some.

Hearing the cries of "Phantom!" and then the word "Pizza!" repeatedly yelled, screamed, and generally hubbubbed about, the real Phantom made his escape.

After some rather dramatic (and unnecessary) swing and leaping about from rooftop to rooftop, Phantom made his way to the cellar of the Cape Cleaners (I don't know how). As he rose from the underground, a voice called out to him,

"Ah, Monsieur Phantom, most esteemed customer! Your cape is ready!"

So, Phantom collected his cape from Monsieur Cape Cleaner and upon donning it, swished and swirled it about him delightedly. Except, you know, it would ruin his image to do anything delightedly, so let us call it menacingly.

So, upon swishing menacingly, and feeling much renewed and invigorated, Phantom requested his seventeen other capes and turned to leave.

Now all he had to do was make his way back to the lair.

**A/N** Ok, first story, so I would like to know how it went. Any reviews are welcome, including flames, because I relish reading them all. Thanks for reading!

Lioness Rising


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